“Did you find what you were looking for, Mr. Mossberg?”
“Not exactly.” The words came out a bit like a growl, and she faltered. I took a breath and reminded myself to be polite. I leaned on the counter and tipped my hat back. “Elias said you might be able to help me.”
“Oh?” she raised her eyebrows in mock surprise.
“Yeah. Said there was a book you helped someone find. A woman named Siva.”
She smiled. “Yes, I believe that name rings a bell.”
“Well, what was it?”
“What?”
“The book! What book did she want?”
“Oh. I believe it was that one.”
She pointed at a book lying on the counter four feet away from where I was standing. I glared at her. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I believe that was it. In fact, it has been sitting there for some time. I didn’t want to send it back until I was sure no one else wanted it.”
“No one else?”
“Well, you never know.”
“And this is that book?” I said in disbelief. “You’re telling me that book has been sitting here for five years?”
She tapped her chin. “Yes, I suppose that’s about right.”
I grabbed the book. It was a big one, about sixteen inches tall and six inches thick. It had a heavy leather binding, dyed green, with an encircled tree embossed in gold on the cover. It was very similar to the symbol of the Society, and that raised my eyebrows. There was no title or any indication of what it was for, so I opened it up and started flipping through the pages.
“It’s very old,” Marjorie said. “Please do be careful with it.”
I ignored her. “The Origins of the Species,” said the title page. I snorted. Fae historians are always so clever. The chapter listings started on the next page: On Satyrs and Satyra, The Wisp and the Willow, Dwarves and other hard things... I slammed it shut.
“You’re sure?” I said. “It couldn’t have been some other book?”
“If you don’t believe me, Mr. Mossberg, you’re welcome to peruse the rest of the library.”
I picked the book up and tucked it under my arm. “Thanks for your help. I’ll bring it back when I’m done.”
She started to protest but fell silent under my glare. I stormed towards the doors, determined to skim every page of that book to find what Siva and Gallan had been looking for. But first, I wanted to make a little side errand. I hurried through the doors, and-
“There you are,” said a female voice behind me. I spun and found Gen leaning against a pillar. It took a second for me to recognize her. I knew the voice, but once again, the buckskin breeches and hooded cloak threw me off. She had a quiver of arrows over her shoulder, and she was leaning against an unstrung longbow, using it like a walking stick.
“You missed the renaissance faire,” I grumbled. “It was last month.”
“Very funny.” She approached me, her moccasin-like boots making quiet swishing noises against the cobblestones. “I’m disappointed in you, Hank.”
I grunted and started walking down the stairs. Gen followed me: “You really hurt their feelings back there. Butch, Talia, Tas... they were all counting on you.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” I said, still walking in the direction of the truck. “I’m sorry if you were waiting for a hero. I’m not it. Besides, nobody wants a hero. I learned that the hard way, and now I have other things to take care of.”
“Like what?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips. I turned to face her, staring down into her perfect elfin face. Gen really was beautiful. It wasn’t something I’d noticed before, but she was. She’d kept her beauty hidden under a police uniform and a badge and all that. She looked different with her hair down and her wildness back. Not that I could ever really think of Gen that way. We were just friends, and that was all we ever could be.
“I have to go,” I said with a sigh. I stepped off the curb, walked around the truck, and crawled inside. By the time I climbed in, Gen was waiting in the passenger seat. Her bow was between us, leaning back between the bucket seats, reaching from the floorboards practically to the roof. I placed the book on the dash and turned to glare at her.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re not. You can’t help me with this.”
“Oh? And why not?”
“Please Buckle,” the truck said. I ignored it.
“You can’t help because... because I need to do it alone, that’s all.”
Gen narrowed her eyebrows. “Alone? Haven’t you spent enough time alone? Isn’t that what got you killed in the first place? Not counting on your friends when you needed them?”
“They didn’t need me,” I snapped. The words were across my lips before I’d even had time to think about what I was saying. Now that they were out, they just sort of hung there between us. Gen stared at me, a crestfallen look washing over her features, her thin, picture-perfect eyebrows knotting up across her brow.
“Is that what you think? You think we don’t need you?”
I started to say something, and stopped. There wasn’t anything to say. What had happened... it was all in the past, but now... things were different.
“Please buckle!” the truck said again, this time with a bit more urgency in her voice.
“They need you now more than ever,” Gen said. “We need you. The whole city needs you! Can’t you see that?”
“You’re wrong,” I said under my breath. “All I’ve ever done is get people hurt. If I get involved now-”
“BUCKLE UP!” the truck demanded. “And Hank, tell your slutty little girlfriend to buckle up, also.”
My eyebrows shot up. I glanced at the screen and saw a pair of digitized female eyes glaring back at me.
“What did you say?” Gen said. She looked at me. “What did this truck just say to me?”
I reached for my seatbelt and frantically jammed it into the receiver. “Just buckle,” I said. “Please.”
The eyes turned to glare at Gen. A dark frown etched her features as she reached for the belt and strapped it into place. Instantly, the eyes on the screen brightened. “Thank you so much. Enjoy your drive!” The eyes vanished, and the engine rumbled to life.
“Tas,” I said with a roll of my eyes.
I pulled away from the curb and headed west, working my way towards the Canals. After a minute on the road, Gen got over the shock of what the truck had said long enough to notice the book on the dash.
“What’s that?” she said, reaching for it.
“I’m not sure. Something Siva and Gallan had been looking at before... everything.”
“You think this had something to do with the terrorist plot?” she said. She opened it up and started thumbing through the pages.
“Probably not. I’m just grasping at straws really, trying to find out what Gallan and Siva were up to.”
“I think we know what they were up to,” Gen said. “They blew up half the city, and then they killed you.”
“Are you sure?” I said.
“What?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Gen pressed her lips together. She turned her attention back to the book, flipping through the pages. The next few minutes passed in silence. When she looked up again, we were halfway through the Canal district. Her eyes widened when she realized where we were.
“Hank, where are you going?”
“To Siva’s place. I just need to look around, that’s all.”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous this neighborhood is?”
“I have an idea,” I said with a grin. “I’ve been here once or twice. Strange thing, though: I haven’t seen any Greenbloods. This area has always been their home turf.”
“You didn’t know?” Gen said. “There aren’t any Greenbloods anymore. They’re disbanded.”
I stared at her. “What? How is that possible?”
“Zane
. He illegalized gang activity. His goons started executing them. They caught a few and shot them, right out in the street in front of everybody.”
“And that did it?” I said in awe. “The gang just ended?”
She shrugged. “They got pretty quiet. There are a few, but they keep a low profile.”
I shook my head and snorted. “Huh. I guess there is a bright side to fascism.”
“Don’t kid yourself,” she mumbled. “We just traded one set of monsters for another, that’s all.”
She went back to the book, and I focused on the road. “Interesting,” she said a few minutes later. “Hank, did you know there’s a chapter on ogres in here?”
“So?”
“I just thought you might find it interesting, learning about your kind and where they came from.”
“I don’t have a kind.”
She stared at me for a second and then went back to reading.
Ten minutes later, the road ended. Well, it didn’t actually end, it just sort of disappeared under a swamp. I pulled to a stop and sat there, watching the headlight beams reflected in the still, murky waters. Gen glanced up from the book to see what was going on.
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?”
“Of course,” I said. “Sort of. I’ve only ever been here by boat.”
The screen on the console, which had been displaying the weather app for most of the drive, suddenly brightened and went white. “Are you ready for some recreational off-roading?”
“I suppose,” I said, somewhat hesitantly. The screen flickered. I saw an image of the truck’s chassis and wheels from on overhead perspective. Red lights flashed at every tire, and I heard clicking sounds. A sign on the dash said “4WD Engaged.”
The truck’s computer said: “Would you like me to display the road for you?”
“Yes, please.”
“As you wish.” The screen flickered again, and I saw an image of the swamp ahead of us. The computer overlaid the image with a grid of red lines that quickly faded into a sonar image of the underwater landscape. Suddenly, I could see the road, the underwater terrain, even the stumps of the trees in our vicinity.
“Impressive,” I said.
“I know,” the truck said. “You should see what else I can do.”
I glanced at Gen with a smirk and she rolled her eyes. I took my foot off the brake, and we started rolling into the water. It rose around us, reaching the axles and then gradually covering up the bottom of the doors.
“Computer, how deep is the water?”
We heard a series of beeps. “Maintaining the present course, the maximum depth is calculated to be eight feet. Advise keeping to the current path.”
“Won’t the engine stall?” I said.
“Negative. The intake is hermetically sealed to prevent stalling in extreme circumstances. Oxygen supply is at maximum. Would you like me to turn on the air conditioning?”
“No, thank you,” I said.
“How about a little heat?”
I cleared my throat. “How about a little defrost?” I heard switches moving in the dash, and warm air began blowing up the windshield. “That’s better, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Hank.”
Gen looked a little worried as I rolled forward. The water level rose up to the windows and continued to rise. Inch by inch, the trees and swamplands vanished, only to be replaced by inky blackness. The screen on the dash continued to illuminate the path ahead, but it was only a simulation. The truth was that we could have been anywhere, surrounded by anything. We were in total darkness, and at the mercy of the elements. We had placed our complete trust in that computer... the same computer that thought I was a jerk and had called Gen a slut. I didn’t feel great about the situation.
I gazed through the windshield into a world of blackness and despair, and I began to question my own good judgment. I saw a pair of reptilian eyes flash in the headlights and then vanish, and a long slender form moved along the window. It was too dark to make out anything more. The front bumper brushed up against what appeared to be a log floating under the water. It bounced away from us and vanished in the darkness.
Finally, the road began to slope upwards. I saw the glimmer of the headlights cutting through the surface of the water and suddenly felt like I could take a breath. I hadn’t realized it, but I must have been barely breathing the entire drive.
The upward slope was slick with mud and moss and whatever nasty slime was growing in that swamp. The tires began to slip. The screen flashed back to the chassis view, and red lights flashed on the axles. The computer’s voice said, “Lockers engaged.”
The front and rear-end made simultaneous ka-chunk! noises, and the tires instantly regained traction. We took off; plowing up that road like it was a sunny day on Highway 1. We splashed through the surface of the swamp with water crashing down around us, cascading off the fenders and hood to roll out in waves. The lights flashed in the trees, reflected back at us in the eyes of a hundred tiny swamp creatures that vanished almost instantly. Within seconds, we were back on land. Gen visibly relaxed.
“Well, that was fun,” she said in a cynical voice. “Next time you tell me to stay behind, maybe I’ll listen.”
Our relief was only momentary. As soon as we left the swamp, we found ourselves barreling through a boggy marsh several feet deep. The mud was like quicksand, sucking at the tires, jerking the steering back and forth in my hands. Gen put her feet up on the dash, bracing herself against the bouncing and lurching of the vehicle. I had no such luxury. I did my best to keep my foot on the throttle, because I wasn’t sure we’d ever get out of there if we stopped. The mud was so deep, we probably couldn’t even escape on foot. If we got stuck, I seriously doubted anyone was going to send a helicopter out to rescue us.
“Recommend four-low for optimum performance and comfort,” the computer said.
I had never driven a car in four-low before, so I wasn’t entirely aware of what it meant. I said, “Sure, let’s do it!”
The dash screen flickered with the image of the axles and tires flashing red, and the truck shifted into low. There was a jerk that threw us both forward against the seat belts, and a loud whining noise came from somewhere under the floor. Our speed instantly dropped to five miles per hour.
“Why’d you do that?” Gen said.
I eased back in the seat. “Seemed like a good idea,” I mumbled. I glanced out the window. We were moving along at a crawl, but the truck had more traction than before. The steering was relatively smooth, and I felt like I was actually back in control.
“What’s that?” Gen said, pointing behind me. I turned my head and saw a shimmering white figure hovering over the marsh. It was a hundred feet behind us. I squinted, trying to separate the figure from the surrounding mist.
“It looks like a ghost,” I said.
I rolled down the window to get a better look. I leaned out, hanging over the edge of the door as I gazed at the creature.
“I don’t like this,” Gen said. “I’ve never heard of a ghost like that.”
“Relax,” I said. “I’m sure it won’t bother us if we keep moving.” I wasn’t certain about that, but I figured she needed to hear it.
A minute or so passed in silence, with nothing but the sound of the tires sloshing through the mud and the moaning sound of the truck’s transfer case. I had forgotten all about the strange creature in the mist. Gen suddenly let out a gasp. She had turned in her seat, and she was watching it through the rear window.
“Hank,” she said in a whisper. “That’s not a ghost.”
I turned my head, but could no longer see it from my vantage. I glanced in the mirror and saw the figure hovering in the air behind us, still a few hundred feet back. It appeared to be moving along with us at a very slow pace.
“I think it’s following us,” Gen said. She locked eyes with me. “Hank, it’s a banshee!”
I felt a cold chill crawl down my spine. “Are you sure? How is that p
ossible?”
“Siva must have put it there,” she said. “Probably to protect her property.”
“That’s sounds like something she’d do. How do we get rid of it?”
“I don’t know... maybe we can outrun it.”
I stepped on the accelerator and gave it a little more speed. We got up to ten miles per hour, which seemed to be the maximum in four-low. The drive train was howling, and the RPMs were dangerously close to the red line. The computer warned me to back off:
“Reduce revs to maximize engine life and fuel efficiency,” she said politely. I didn’t. At that point, I could see the edge of the marsh and the woods around Siva’s house rising up in the distance. In the rear view mirror, I could see the banshee floating along in our wake. We had definitely attracted her attention.
“We need to go faster!” I shouted at the computer.
“Shifting into four-high,” the computer said in an impatient voice. I heard a click, and the RPMs instantly dropped. Suddenly, we were going thirty miles per hour. Mud was flying and we were bouncing like a basketball. I could barely hang onto the steering wheel.
“Slow...down!” Gen said, jamming her feet up against the dash.
I eased back on the accelerator and checked the mirrors. The banshee was already shrinking in the distance. I slowed down to twenty, still keeping an eye on the mirror. A few seconds later, we finally hit dry ground. I picked up the speed a bit until we reached the woods just beyond the mansion. There, I had to slow way back down as I tried to pick a path between the trees. We were within walking distance of the mansion, but I didn’t want to risk making the trek on foot unless we had to. If Siva had left a banshee wandering her property, God only knew what else might be out there.
As we crawled through the last half mile of woods, Gen opened the book up and went back to reading. I snorted at her.
“What?” she said, blinking at me.
“How can you read at a time like this?”
“I love to read.”
“Why?”
She stared at me like I’d just asked her a question in a foreign language. “You’re a meathead,” she said. “You know Hank, you really should read this book.”
A Dame to Die For Page 8
